The Chava Chronicles
by ceemonster
Summary: ﻿The story of “Fiddler on the Roof,”and then some, as told by Tevye’s third daughter, Chava. (More chapters coming soon!!!)
1. First Entry

Title: The Chava Chronicles  
Author: Little Bird (Crowbo13@aol.com)  
Summary: The story of "Fiddler on the Roof" and then some as told by Tevye's third daughter,  
Chava to her diary.  
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Sholem Aleichem was the original creator in his  
short stories TEVYE THE DAIRYMAN. Rights, I believe, belong to MTI.  
Feedback: Welcomed and encouraged...please no flaming.  
Archive: Ask first (will probably answer "yes", but just to be on the safe side)  
Author's Notes: Hey, this is my first attempt at a Fiddler-Fic...please be kind. Normally I write   
fantasy and science fiction, so this is a total leap for me. The reason I decided to write this is  
because I played Chava recently, and wondered what she would be thinking about all this...The  
play is presented in first person by Tevye, so I decided to give his Chavaleh a turn. Hope you  
enjoy.   
Thank you to: My Fiddler family, my SAPs and SAPlings, all my friends at the Musical.net  
Fiddler Forum, and to my friends at MusicalRPG.  
  
**********  
  
Sholem Aleichem to you, Reb Journal. I am Chava, the third daughter of Tevye  
the dairyman of our little village, Anatevka. You will have to pardon me, Reb Journal, but I do  
not know how to address a book. You see, you are my first journal. There has always been a  
shortage of money in my family, mainly because of how big it is; Papa and Mama, plus myself  
and four sisters. Yes, Reb Journal, you heard correctly. There are five daughters in my family.   
Tzeitel is the oldest, and then comes Hodel. Tzeitel is nineteen and Hodel is only older then me  
by a year. I am fifteen. Then, I have two younger sisters, Shprintze, twelve, and Beilke, nine.   
Papa doesn't get much for his work, and with seven mouths to feed, there is never any extra  
money left to waste on things like journals.  
  
That is why I have been saving every kopeck I could for the past year. Anytime I  
received any, such as pay for an errand for Motel or Avrahm, or as a gift, I would put it away,  
under my dresser. Nobody knew about the money, except for Tzeitel. I tell her everything and  
vise versa. That's why she doesn't know about you . . . I told her the money was for a book of  
poems. She would be very upset if she knew I was now relying on a book to keep my secrets,  
rather then her. However, she is busy now, especially because Yente, the village matchmaker, is  
starting to look for a husband for Tzeitel. But, Tzeitel is in love with Motel, the poor tailor. I'm  
glad neither she nor Papa can read Russian, because if they found this, there would be Hell to  
pay.  
  
Let's see. . .there is always gossip here in Anatevka, mainly because of Yente and  
Shaindel, Motel's mother. The two of them squawk more then Lazar Wolf's chickens. Lazar is  
the richest man in town, and he is close to the oldest. Avrahm is the bookseller, and one of the  
only few Jews who can read Russian. Since most of the books in the village are written in  
Russian, Papa had him teach me, so I could continue to expand my passion for literature.   
  
Anatevka is small, and I know many of the people here as well as I know my own  
sisters. However, there are those I am not allowed to speak to; the Gentiles, or goys as my Papa  
calls them. To speak the truth though, they frighten me. The ones I am most familiar with are the  
soldiers and I only see them when I am in town. That's enough. I would prefer not to see them at  
all. They are usually standing around Lazar's shop, but when I walk by, they snicker and smile  
evilly. Once, a group of them started to follow me home after I left Avrahm's, but the Constable  
appeared with some orders, so I managed to slip away quickly. There hasn't been another  
incident, but I am still frightened.  
  
What else can I talk about, Reb Journal? Nothing important has happened recently,  
just Yente making new matches. She is trying to set up Avrahm's son Jacob, with Rochel, the  
shoemaker's daughter. Tzeitel and I try to avoid Yente when we see her in town, but Hodel is  
very interested in a match, only because she has her eye on Mendel, the Rabbi's son. She can  
dream. She and I must wait until Tzeitel is matched and even then she has little chance. When a  
girl has no dowry, a match with the Rabbi's son is almost impossible. It would be the greatest  
miracle since the parting of the Red Sea!  
  
I must go now, Reb Journal. Mama is calling for me to help clean for supper. I will write  
again soon, when I have more time and privacy. Maybe something interesting will have happened by then.   
  
**********   



	2. Second Entry

**********   
  
Hello again, Reb Journal. You will never guess what happened today! Papa came home from his  
rounds as usual, and as he was putting away his horse in the barn, he called me to him.   
  
"Come here, Chavaleh. I have something for you." And with that, he pulled out a small, leather  
bound book from his cart. It was the one I had been looking at the other day in Avrahm's shop,  
filled with both Russian and Jewish poetry. I squealed with delight and rushed into his arms,  
thanking him over and over again.  
  
"So my Chavaleh likes the gift, I take it?" I nodded and kissed him on the cheek.  
  
"Oh, thank you Papa!"  
  
"Think of it as an early birthday present. . . Oh, and Chavaleh. . . don't tell your sisters." Again I  
nodded and went off to my secret hiding spot, an old run down shack on the nearby lake shore.  
No one ever goes there, so I am always alone. I sat down and opened the cover of the book.   
Inside, on the first page, Papa had scribbled:  
"To my Chavaleh,  
May your mind take flight  
with the words of these poems."  
  
Chavaleh. . . only Papa calls me that. He's always called me that since I was little. When I was a  
baby, I was often very ill, and Papa and Mama sat up countless nights, "watching me fight for  
my life like a trampled little bird" . . . So it stuck. I am forever Chavaleh, Little Bird, in my  
Papa's eyes. Not that I mind it. I am very close to my Papa, more so then I am with my Mama.  
Being the middle daughter of five is difficult, but Papa always manages to show me that I am not  
forgotten by bringing me small surprises, like the poetry book . . . and my birthday is still three  
months away.   
  
Oh well, I must get back to my work now. As Mama says, "The cows won't milk themselves!"  
Until later, Reb Journal.  
  
********** 


	3. Third and Fourth Entry

**********  
  
Reb Journal, today Yente came to speak with Mama! We think she found a match for Tzeitel.  
My poor big sister is broken hearted. She loved Motel Kamzoil, and says she will die if she  
must be with anyone else. Tzeitel told me recently that about a year ago, she and Motel pledged that they would be married! But Motel is so poor and wants to save up for a "sewing machine" - whatever that may be. . .   
  
I often run letter between the two of them while Motel works at his shop and Tzeitel does her chores at home. Papa doesn't suspect anything. . . His Little Bird would do nothing against the traditions of our people. But, I like Motel and he makes Tzeitel happy. I would be heartbroken for her if Papa betroths her to someone other then Motel. Once a match is made, that is it. Everything is final.  
  
I can't imagine what is going through my sister's head. I wonder who the man is. God forbid he is a slacker. . . toi toi! Oh, now I sound like Mama, chasing off the Evil Eye. Anyway, Papa is going out after the Sabbath, we assume to talk to the intended. Mama practically broke his arm to get him to go, and poor Tzeitel is on her bed crying. I must go and try to calm her down. Until tomorrow, Reb Journal.  
  
**********  
  
Reb Journal, I couldn't wait! I had to tell you. Motel stopped by to talk to Tzeitel and ended up staying the Sabbath. Mama sent Tzeitel, him, and myself to get a table. Tzeitel wanted to talk to Motel alone, so I scatted into the kitchen, but not too far so I couldn't hear them.  
  
Reb Journal, she wanted him to ask Papa for her hand. . . TONIGHT! I was so shocked that I  
almost dropped a plate. He didn't do it though. . .He was too frightened to do so. I don't blame him though. I mean, Motel only is a poor tailor, but as Tzeitel said, "Even a poor tailor deserves some happiness."  
  
Still, I couldn't believe they were even discussing it. Papa and Mama were in the next room! It almost seemed like one of the tales from my books. Love. It's so rare here in Anatevka. Marriages are arranged, and the two involved have very little choice. The Papa decides, and what he says is what happens; emotions such as love matter very little.   
  
I just hope everything works out. I must go now. I am not supposed to be writing during  
Sabbath. More later, I promise.  
  
********** 


	4. Fifth Entry

**********  
Reb Journal!!! I have so much to tell you now!   
  
First, Shprintze came upon me while I was writing in you last and begged me to read some to her. Of course, I made her promise not to tell anyone that I had a journal, and even after that, I made up half of what I told her was written in your pages. Of all my sisters, Shprintze is the one with the longest tongue, next to me of course. I accidentally let it slip to Perchik that Hodel had a crush on Mendel.  
  
That is another thing that has happened. Perchik! He is a student from Kiev who Papa bought home to give lessons to Shprintze and Beilke. He, at first, thought that he was also to teach me. Shortly after Sabbath, he handed me a book and wanted to know if I could read the first sentence. I just smiled at him, and taking the book, read the entire first paragraph aloud. I looked up at Perchik, not to his eyes though, and asked if he would like me to translate it into Yiddish. Well, Reb Journal, I have never seen a man become so embarrassed. Papa pulled me aside afterwards and scolded me lightly for "wounding that man's pride," but he did so with a smile on his face, and I could tell he was proud.  
  
Since then, Perchik and I have had a new respect for each other. Which leads to today's events...   
  
Papa came home late last night, drunk as a fool, again. As Tzeitel saw him falling into the house, she ran the bed and buried her head beneath her pillow. Seeing Papa in that state was not a good sign.   
  
We didn't see him again till this afternoon.  
  
Tzeitel was in the barn, milking our new dairy cow, while Hodel was washing clothes in the yard. I was with her, churning butter and Perchik was giving crazy lessons to Shprintze and Beilke not far away. He was telling them the story of Laban and Jacob, and how Laban tricked Jacob into marrying his older, and uglier, daughter, Leah rather then Rachel, the beautiful, who Jacob had fallen in love with. But in order to marry Rachel, Jacob was forced to work a total of 14 years.  
  
"You see, children," Perchik preached, "The Good Book clearly teaches us, you must never trust an employer!"  
  
I just shook my head, and looked to Hodel, who in turn was staring at Perchik in utter disgust.  
  
Suddenly Mama came barging through the gate. "Papa isn't up yet?"  
  
"No, Mama," said Hodel, looking up from the soapy tin of clothes.  
  
Mama turned right around and demanded that Shprintze and Beilke had had "enough lessons" and that "we have to do Papa's work today." Then she went off like a mad-woman! "How long can he sleep?" she asked us, waving her arms around, then turned back on my little sisters, who had no time to even move. "I said enough! Go clean the barn!" Looking back at Hodel, she added "call me when Papa gets up" before heading off into the house.  
  
Hodel, after nodding to Mama, turned on Perchik, showing off her 'quick and witty tongue.'   
  
"That was an interesting lesson, Perchik," she said in an innocent voice, keeping her eyes on her washing. All I could do was smile. Now he was in for it. Once Hodel starts, there is no way of stopping her short of the Sabbath.   
  
"Do you think so?" He asked back, plain as day. Perchik, obviously, has not been around enough to know when Hodel is in one of her 'moods.'  
  
"Although, I don't know if the Rabbi would agree with your interpretation."  
  
"And neither, I suppose, would the Rabbi's son."   
  
I was stunned, Reb Journal. No one in my family has been able to outwit Hodel in the longest time. Then I remembered where exactly Perchik had gotten that little bit of information, and Hodel figured it out pretty quickly.  
  
"My little sisters have big tongues," she snapped, turning on me. I just smiled, probably looking terrified, grabbed my churn, and ran for the safe haven of the barn.   
  
Tzeitel was there...  
  
So was Motel.  
  
Reb Journal, you'll have to pardon me, but those two need to find a more private spot to "talk," as they insist they were doing. What if I had been Mama, or even Papa?!   
  
Well, we all went back to our jobs; me churning as Tzeitel milked the cow with Motel watching her intently. We stayed that way until Hodel came to get Tzeitel. Papa was awake and wanted her.   
  
Of course, she ran right out. Hodel and I followed, leaving Motel behind.   
  
"Tzeitel, my lamb! Come here..." Papa called her. "Tzeitel, you are to be congratulated. You are going to be married!"   
  
Married! We were all horrified!   
  
"What do you mean, Papa?" Tzeitel asked, trying to hide the tremor from her voice.  
  
"Lazar Wolf has asked for your hand."  
  
Poor Tzeitel! Lazar is so old, even older then Papa! How ever expect her to marry him?!?  
  
Of course, Mama had something to say, as always. "I knew it! My heart told me this was our lucky day! O dear God, I thank thee, I thank thee!"  
  
Papa, after trying to silence Mama, turned back to Tzeitel. "And what do you have to say, my child?"  
  
"What can she say?" Mama interrupted again. "My first born, a bride! May you grow old with him in fortune and honor...not like Fruma-Sarah, that first wife of his. She was a bitter woman, may she rest in peace..." At this, Mama spat, warding off the evil spirits. "Not like my Tzeitel. And now, I must thank Yente! My Tzeitel, a bride!"   
  
And off she went, like it was her wedding day!   
  
But poor Tzeitel, she just stood there, as cold as stone. Hodel and I could do nothing but wish her a Mazel Tov, and then hurry back to the barn. Right? Wrong.  
  
Motel was still there. We told him everything. I could see his eyes filling with pain, and then he ran from the barn.   
  
Hodel shook her head in dismay, but I wasn't discouraged that easily. I knew Motel better then she did, and I didn't give up hope.   
  
Slowly, crept back out of the barn, and stood by the side of the house. To my surprise, Motel was there, talking to my Papa like a man! He had asked Papa for her hand, and promised that she would not starve, afer making the mistake of mentioning the pledge.  
  
But do you know what my Papa did? He asked them, "when shall we make the wedding?"  
  
Reb Journal, I have never been happier for my sister! She is going to marry Motel, not Lazar, in about a month's time. Everyone is excited, hussling around already, making preparations even though they have been engaged less then twelve hours.   
  
I must go now...Mama has cooked a large feast...unfortunately, she still thinks that Tzeitel is to marry Lazar. I wonder how Papa will explain this to her...  
  
********** 


End file.
